Draco Malfoy and Lord Voldemort's Request
by o0UNoPoo0o
Summary: This is basically The Half Blood Prince from Draco's point of view, so obviously there will be spoilers. I also made up a lot of events in this story.
1. Chapter 1

Draco Malfoy and Lord Voldemort's Request

A/N: This is basically the Half Blood Prince from Draco's point of view. However, I made up a lot of events.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Harry Potter is rightfully J.K. Rowling's.

Rain pounded the windows outside the Malfoy mansion. Sporadic strikes of lightning danced across the sky, occasionally lighting up the dark room, along with a dying fire in the fireplace across from the deep red armchair in which Draco was sitting, trying to ignore the hysterical sobs of his mother in the room above. She had been like this ever since his father, Lucius, had been sent to Azkaban.

It disgusted Draco to see her like this, her eyes constantly swollen, her nose running, her nightgown filthy and wet. She was putting on a very unconvincing act in Draco's opinion. He could tell that his mother didn't love his father, but had only married him for money, and because of the fact that his father, like her, had been a pure-blood.

He remembered his father being sent to Azkaban vividly. His name, once respected among all wizard kind, had been disgraced; people who usually paid no attention to him before now gave him looks of deepest loathing. The teachers (McGonagall in particular) watched him beadily as if he was going to cast the dark mark in the classroom at any second.

Then his thoughts shifted to Harry Potter. Draco closed his eyes and scowled. Potter was the reason his father was locked up in Azkaban. Potter was the reason why the name "Malfoy" was no longer respected. Potter was the reason why his mother was weeping upstairs, her screams of mirth growing in a crescendo of sound. And Potter was the reason why every bad thing happened to him…

He then began to think of possible revenges to pay back for his father's imprisonment: casting the Imperious Curse to make him dive into a cauldron full of that oaf Hagrid's Blast-Endy whatever-they-were and watch the hideous creatures rip him limb from limb, performing the Cruciatus Curse until he ended up like Longbottom's parents…

But no. None of those would possibly satisfy Draco more than if Potter was dead. As his father had once told him, _nothing is worse than death_.

His mind pictured Potter, spread eagle on the floor, eyes wide open. He quivered with delight at the thought that he, Draco, had shown him no mercy. That he was the one who had pointed the wand at his heart, sending Potter to reunite with his useless parents-

A loud CRACK filled the room, shattering the wall of his thoughts. Draco jumped as though he had received an electric shock and wildly looked around the room. He pulled his wand out of the pocket of his robes. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but he was sure he had heard someone Apparate. _Maybe it was one of the House-Elves_, Draco reasoned with himself. He had decided to settle on that theory when, without warning, a metallic-like hand clamped over his mouth, stifling his scream. Then, the room before him vanished.

A.N.: Reviews anyone?


	2. Chapter 2

(A/N) Yay an update! Thanks to all who reviewed the first chapter! And they are drumroll:

Sellea, duj, tarabubbles, angeleenaa, Fredryck, SilverShiver, Lily Laurelinn, ForeverRain, andFishyTails!

Yay!

Now on to Chapter 2:

Before panic had a chance to seize him, he was being sucked through an invisible tube. He was suffocating, dying. He couldn't yell out to anyone as the stranger's hand was still over his mouth. He would die here and no one would hear him scream.

He couldn't struggle, couldn't breath, couldn't think. And just when he thought that his journey on earth was over, the suffocation stopped. The man's grip broke and he released Draco as he fell to the ground. Draco gasped for air and looked up from his spot on the floor.

On first impression, the room seemed to be completely gray. But on closer look, Draco saw it to be completely covered with dust. A grimy picture of a woman stared down at him. But something was wrong with it: it wasn't moving. The wall had holes in it, and water fell from the ceiling in silent drops onto the dusty carpet.

"Draco," hissed a high, cold voice that made his hair stand on end.

He quickly got to his feet and whirled around. It took every ounce of Draco's self control not to yell out at the sight of the man before him. He had bright red eyes that seemed to burn everything in its path, tight white scale-like skin stretched over a snake-like skull. White, spider-like fingers were curled over an arm of the armchair he was standing next to. His body looked like it had been stretched, for he was tall and extremely thin.

It was the Dark Lord.

"Draco," he said again, a smile contorting his already gruesome features, as though he could sense Draco's fear.

Draco sank into a deep bow, somehow knowing through his shock and fright that this was the right thing to do. "My Lord," he murmured, looking at the Dark Lord's robes.

"Wormtail here-" he pointed to a man who was cowering in the corner, "has brought you here on my command." Draco nodded.

"What I am asking you to do for me," he continued, "is but a simple test to show where your loyalties lie."

"My loyalties lie with you," Draco said quickly.

"This task will decide that," the Dark Lord said.

There was a silence for a moment while Draco registered what he had said. He was going to become a Death Eater like his father.

_Then what?_ asked a voice in his head, _Get thrown into Azkaban like Father?_

"No," answered Voldemort, making Draco jump, "If you succeed, you will be rewarded beyond anyone. Everything that you want will be yours. You alone will covet what you most desire. There is no right and wrong, Draco, there is only power. Power lies beyond mere mortals, lies beyond the Muggles that infest the land. Power is only gained by seeking it, and doing everything we can to seize it."

Draco nodded again.

"The question is, Draco, are you ready? Are you ready for power that most can only dream about? Are you ready to be honored beyond all of my faithful Death Eaters?"

Draco's stomach lurched. He wasn't ready. How could he be ready? After he had seen what "faithful Death Eaters" had to do. After he had seen his own father chucked into Azkaban.

Then a completely new emotion took hold of him. It was anger as Potter's face floated to his mind. It was the ultimate revenge. It was the only chance he had of making Potter get what he deserved.

"I am ready, my Lord," said Draco.

(A/N): Wow when I just reread over the chapter I saw how horrific and short it was. Sorry about that! I'll try to make the next chapter better.

But for the meantime, reviews anyone?


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